Hush! It's a Secret!
by SeeingToad
Summary: When blackmailed with a scandalous secret, Gaara has to choose between remaining the Kazekage and handing over the Shukaku. Onesided pairings. Female!Gaara.
1. Day 1 Part 1

A/N: This story was was cowritten by **Ryth76, **my sister. Please enjoy! This was actually put up before, but I removed it to break it up in shorter segments.

The chapter endings may be a little stilted. I didn't write this story with chapters in it and it's too long to put up in its entirety. So I tried to make the chapters short enough for the reader to be comfortable. Even though that means some chapters may end awkwardly. Maybe later I'll go back and patch them up.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto_.

**Hush! It's A Secret!**

_By **Little** **Seagull** and **Ryth76**_

_**Gaara's POV:**_**(Day 1)**

It was early morning in Sunagakure. The person known as Sabaku no Gaara sank deeper into the blankets. So tired. A pair of aquamarine eyes fluttered open, squinted at the clock, and then closed them wearily.

It would be so easy to sleep in, but the pile of documents weren't going to shift through and sign themselves. They would continually pile up. There were teams to send out. Missions. Agricultural debacles. Political orders.

Gaara tossed off the covers and stood up, clad in the loose black and maroon nightgown. The nightgown that, like everything she wore, hid tell-tale signs of womanliness. The problem with being raised as a boy all her life was that she had to constantly hide. There was no room for mistakes. A mistake could cost her reputation, her highly esteemed position, banishment, or her life.

She frowned at herself in the mirror, staring at the curved hips, the slim waist, and then the bust. The bust that had become fuller in the past two years. Even flattening those breasts wasn't doing much anymore. And the years had only succeeded in making her body more feminine. A real problem.

Once every few months she would see her gynecologist (one of two people who knew the secret). The next appointment had been scheduled for today between lunch and breakfast. That and the fact her physical non-female oriented health needed to be checked on.

She staggered groggily into the bathroom to take a shower, stripped, adjusted the dials, and entered the stall. The hot water poured over a strongly muscled back, muscular arms and shoulders, beads dripping down into the softer plains of marble white skin.

Her mind went back to the formal message the Sand had received from the daimyo of the Land of Cliffs. Makoto Hikaru. She recalled meeting him once. If memory served her well, he was a tall, thin man with a constant embittered look in his black eyes. As though he had seen a lifetime of pain and suffering. Judging by the report on his land, she could understand.

The economy and military force was low. The morale of the villagers was low. Not to mention a renegade ninja clan had made multiple assaults on the village. Because the land was slowly slipping into the grasp of the shinobi clan, the people had tried to establish more territory.

But the territory they wanted was being targeted by the Land of Valleys.

Skirmishes and fights had broke out between the Land of Cliffs and Land of Valleys. Many people had died.

Gaara had a sick feeling in her stomach. She lathered soap on her body, rinsed, and then stepped out of the shower. She had a bad feeling something was about to happen. Even though she couldn't see it, couldn't touch it, the feeling of _something_ was strong and prominent. Premonition. A dark foreboding.

Gaara ignored the itch in her throat, suppressing the urge to cough.

Such poor conditions required desperate actions. And it probably didn't have anything to do with the Land of Valleys.

Having cleaned up for the day, she slipped on the white and blue Kazekage robes and took purposeful strides to her office. Whatever it was, she had dealt with worse things in her life.


	2. Day 1 Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto_.

**Day 1: Part 2**

_**The Ambassador of the Land of Cliffs POV:**_

The ambassador of the Land of Cliffs, Okimoto Daichi, walked through the corridors of the Kazekage building. It was still early morning. He'd have to talk the young man into handing Shukaku over. With the economy being low, the land being targeted by hoodlums and ninjas alike, the ambassador's daimyo thought that the best course of action was to seal Shukaku into a new host.

The Hidden Villages had their Bijuus, and now the Land of Cliffs needed one. Pressured on every side there was but one thing his country could do. He didn't want it to come to making a new Jinchuuriki. But there was no other way.

Hopefully the Godaime would be sympathetic. Either that or perhaps the Council would be. If not—

Well, Daichi wasn't ready to think of it.

He stopped outside the door to the Kazekage's office. He knew he was early. He looked up at the tall blonde woman with four ponytails beside him. What was her name again? Anyway, she was his escort.

Attractive woman. She was pretty and slender without looking overly fragile. Not to mention the shapely legs that peeked out from the slits in the sides of her black kimono was a pleasant sight to someone who had seen sand and dust for too long. There was a spark of intelligence and self-assuredness in her eyes. A woman with wits about her.

Was she single? Come to think of it, he'd never once heard of a ninja getting married. Did they marry? Well, not that he wanted to marry this one. She was certainly handsome, though.

The kunoichi knocked on the door, startling the man out of his scattered thoughts.

"Kazekage-sama, the ambassador of the Land of Cliffs desires an audience with you," she stated.

"Come in," a tenor voice said from the other side.

The blonde kunoichi – Temari – stepped inside.

The Kazekage was a redheaded young man with startlingly piercing aquamarine eyes surrounded by black rings. His desk had a neat stack of reports and he'd obviously been busy signing a document when the ambassador had come in. Beside the stack was a cup full to the brim with hot tea.

Temari-dono left them alone.

Okimoto Daichi took a deep breath. Time to get down to business.

"Good morning, Kazekage-sama. My name is Okimoto Daichi. As you already know, I am the ambassador of the Land of Cliffs. I wanted to talk to you about pressing matters."

So far so good.

"This has nothing to do with land," the Kazekage said, leaning back in his seat, fingers curled tightly around the armrests.

"How'd you know?" Daichi asked, putting a mild trace of curiosity in his voice. It bothered him that this young man had already found out. Someone had informed him earlier that the current Kazekage was kunai-sharp.

"Continue."

Daichi swallowed. He wished the Godaime would show _some _emotions. Also, those eyes were making him uncomfortable. They were old for his face. Was this the effect Shukaku had had on him? The fact it had aged him like this? What things had he seen? Gone through?

But—

He swallowed. He needed to "plunge the knife in" so to speak. No matter how much he might question the daimyo, he still knew what his country needed.

"We are desperate, Kazekage-sama. We don't have enough money to pay off our tributes to the surrounding countries. We are oppressed on all sides. This year there was only enough rice to feed twelve families. We need Shukaku."

The Kazekage frowned. He didn't look startled at all by Daichi's words. In fact, it appeared that he had expected them. He wasn't pleased. Daichi had had a feeling he wouldn't be. After all, the Shukaku belonged to Sunagakure. One didn't just hand Bijuus over.

"Sunagakure would be glad to help the Land of Cliffs and set up a border guard. But I won't hand the Shukaku over to your people."

Daichi licked his chapped lips. Surely there must be something that would change the Godaime's mind. Families were starving for food back home. Things were looking increasingly bleak. He wasn't all too sure a border guard would help matters. And he didn't want to be deep in financial debt with the Sand, either.

"Thanks for your help. But we can't risk being in debt. The most we can pay for are D to C-rank missions. We don't have enough money for a large operation."

"I know. But until you are able to we would be glad to help. Sunagakure's economical and military status were low at one point."

"And the former Kazekage sealed Shukaku into you because of the situation," Daichi reminded him. Maybe he'd see things his way.

_**Gaara's POV:**_

_Are all men this _stupid?!

Gaara would rather be anywhere but around this man. When he had entered the room, the very second he'd opened up his mouth, she'd known he was a genuine idiot. The fact he'd dared suggest in _her _face that she hand Shukaku over to him further proved his incompetence. Instead of talking with the council members, he had daredto – !

She took a deep breath, keeping her anger in check.

"By his actions he gave me fifteen long years of complete loneliness. The only time I ever felt loved was when I was rescued. No one asked about my opinions about it. No one befriended me until that point. Is that the life you want to give someone? What if this person wasn't able to control Shukaku very well? What then?"

The ambassador's eyes widened at her words.

"But you were able to use that ability to protect others. You controlled it pretty well."

Something snapped inside of her. She wanted to throttle this man! That's what she wanted to do. Use her sand to make him squirm—

"Yes." _Keep calm._ "I was able to suppress it because I learned by watching Uzumaki Naruto to use my powers to protect others. But I wasn't able to suppress it fully until several years had past."

"Of course the Jinchuuriki will use the powers to protect. He'd be a useful tool for our economy."

_Shut up! You don't have any idea what you're saying! Just shut the hell up!_

She hadn't been so angry in a _long_ time.

"We will discuss this later," she stated in a tightly controlled voice. "Please leave."

The ambassador nodded, thin lips spread in a professional smile. Then he left.

_**Ambassador's POV:**_

Okimoto Daichi walked outside, a smile on his face. That had gone surprisingly well. He'd make the Kazekage see their point sooner or later. If not then he'd have to initiate Plan B when it came time.

He saw Temari and flashed a smile at her. She didn't return it. Instead she scowled at him.

Women were odd. One moment she was smiling politely, and the next looking at him as though she secretly wanted to tear him apart. Maybe he'd been wrong about her intelligence. Women were such flighty creatures. They were easily distracted, prone to be overly emotional, given to melodrama and gossip. Maybe she'd gotten wind of some rumor or gossip while he'd been talking to the Godaime.

Men needed to be in rule over countries and politics. Leave the woman out of it. In that regard, Daichi felt a deep sense of respect toward the laws of Sunagakure's government. No woman was allowed in the council. Otherwise she'd be a babbling nuisance. No woman was to be Kazekage. This was a logical decision, and a sensible one. A smart leader was needed. Overall most women weren't very intelligent or were smart about pointless things.

Though, he did admire the occasional rare breed of intelligent women.

"Where do I stay?" he asked. It had taken him three days to go to Suna. He couldn't just head out. Also, that would be rude. He didn't want to be impolite to anyone. As ambassador of the Land of Cliffs it was—

"Follow me."

Her voice was icy cold, making him wonder whatever he'd done to make her act like that. Surely she hadn't been listening in on his conversation, had she? It'd be bad if she'd heard. Last thing he wanted was a gaggle of women going into hysteria over the Shukaku being on loan for awhile.

_**Temari's POV:**_

Temari had heard every word. Had heard every word and was amazed at how stupid a person could be. He was completely ignorant of her little brother's feelings. Never mind the fact Gaara had been Shukaku host, he'd had to slither his oily way into the Kazekage chamber and petition _Gaara _to hand over the Shukaku.

She hadn't seen such rampant insensitivity for Gaara since Kankuro had informed her about the council meeting he'd sat in on during the Kazekage rescue mission.

She barely listened as the ambassador attempted to make small talk on the expensive living conditions in the Sand, or that it couldn't compare with the prices found in the Land of Cliffs. He would whistle through his teeth at the mention of a highly priced article, and then state "Things are much worse down where I'm from." It was like listening to constant dripping from a leaky faucet.

Temari didn't want to say it aloud. She had more courtesy than that – but she almost wanted to say, "Too bad," and leave the ambassador to find his own way around.

Once she'd made it to the small guest room, she was glad to have him off her hands.

"Thank you for your kind generosity. Really charming place here. Cozy," the infuriating man stated, wearing his fake, polite smile. He rubbed his hands together.

"Your welcome," Temari returned. She turned to leave, but the man put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Wait. May I see the place you keep the Shukaku?"

Temari's patience had been running thin the entire time while escorting him. Now it had fizzled out.

"We aren't giving Shukaku to anyone. Much less someone who doesn't have the sense not to ask my little brother for it!"

Daichi's eyes widened and he sucked in his breath.

"Really? You're his _sister? _I'm very sorry, then. But, as you know, current events call for desperate measures. We _need_ the Shukaku. You may not understand, but we need a power boost."

"We aren't handing over the Shukaku!"

She spun on her heels and marched off.

Power boost. That was what her father had wanted. Then he'd used her mother as a sacrifice, sealing Shukaku into a helpless unborn child. Her brother. And he'd had fifteen years of hell. Was that the life the daimyo of the Land of Cliffs wanted to give to someone?

She was still ranting mentally when she made it back to the door leading to Gaara's office.

She took a deep breath, indecisive about whether or not to knock or enter. Sure, she'd been much closer to her little brother since after his rescue, but still wasn't completely comfortable in his presence. It wasn't so much fear but guilt.

He had suffered and she was one of many to blame for it.

Gritting her teeth, Temari made up her mind and knocked on the door.

"Gaara, it's me. Can I come in?"

There was a moment of brief silence. Temari swallowed. Perhaps she should've waited a little. Gaara, while having changed drastically since he'd fought Naruto, still had a hot temper. But he was very cautious.

"Come in," he said from the office.

Temari pushed the door open, stepped in, and closed it behind her.

"I heard everything."

Gaara had a small stack of papers in front of him and had been signing them. He looked up and leaned back in his seat, looking at her with a stoic expression.

"Idiots happen," he stated, shrugging his shoulders.

_Wow! He's taking this very well!_ Temari felt a sense of pride for the young man. Usually he would take out his frustrations on the wild landscape, but this was—

He pushed the documents away from him.

"I feel like taking a break."

Temari blinked. Just when she'd thought he didn't need to go out and scramble the landscape he just up and decided to do just that, much to her disappointment.

"Oh. When will you be back?"

She might as well know what time. Usually he didn't take too long, though last time he'd been out for a good while. Enough to make her and Kankuro worry. That had been almost a year back, come to think of it. A good while ago.

Gaara gave her a strange look.

"I'm not going anywhere, Temari nee-chan."

He stood up from his chair, poured a cup of tea from the pitcher on his desk, and took a tiny sip as though to prove his point. He looked outside the round windows, at the domed roofed buildings.

_Don't worry about me. I'm all right._

The words went unspoken.

Moderately relieved, Temari left.

_**Gaara's POV:**_

Actually, Gaara wasn't all right. She was angry and one of the reasons she didn't want to storm off into the barren desert and vent was because of what had happened last time. She'd had the maroon battle outfit since her fifteenth birthday. But while she hadn't grown any taller, her breasts had become bigger, pressing against the thick fabric.

Before, whenever she was both exhausted or running out of chakra, she would be a little out of breath. Last time she hadn't been able to breathe properly and had fainted, the material having soaked up her sweat, making it tighter than normal. When she came to, she had forgotten what had gotten her so worked up. All she remembered was being violently angry, struggling for breath, and passing out.

That was one reason why she wasn't venting against lifeless rocks and cacti. The other was due to the fact she didn't feel up to par. She was coming down with something. Her throat itched. She suppressed the sudden urge to cough. Fifteen years of insomnia was taking its toll on her body. Not that she'd ever been extremely healthy.

The Land of Cliffs' daimyo might be foolish, but she didn't need to unleash her anger upon nature. He must've thought of the Shukaku over and over before sending the ambassador. After seeing so many people die, after being pushed back for so _long_ he saw it as the best alternative. Sealing Shukaku into a new host and using that host as a weapon – he would be the power of human sacrifice.

There was also the fact the new Jinchuuriki could become a threat to the Land of Cliffs. Once she had used that power to crush and destroy all who stood in her way, but after Naruto had knocked sense into her she had used that ability to protect Suna and those closest to her.

If there was a new Jinchuuriki, would he have that same mindset she used to have? Would he feel so much pain and loneliness that only taking the lives of others made him feel alive?

Gaara tried not to think too much of the past. The loneliness had been so bleak she had believed there had been no hope, no escape from the hellish existence.

But that had changed after her fight with Naruto.

The itch in her throat became unbearable. She broke into a coughing fit that left her gasping for breath afterwards. Wheezing, she looked outside the windows. The temperature hadn't skyrocketed yet and she needed the fresh air.

Gaara walked out of the office, heading toward the balcony – her favorite place to contemplate, reflect, and watch the activities of Sunagakure's civilians. Or simply look at the buildings that housed the said civilians. Because she would never live the life of a normal woman, being Kazekage was the equivalent of having a child. The maternal streak and affection had grown over the years. Even though she hadn't been accepted at first, even though the council still thought she was a monster at the beginning, she had felt a measure of happiness that came with the responsibility of being Kazekage.

She would never have realized to the extent she was loved and needed until two years ago when the inner tears had stopped flowing, the wounds in her heart healing. There had been so much happiness that it had nearly overwhelmed her. She had been loved to the point that Elder Chiyo had died to bring her back from the dead (she still felt a mixture of sadness that it had taken her that much to make her realize the extent of love).

Would the new Shukaku host ever love or be loved? There was no guarantee that his life would be better or worse than her own had been. It was an unnecessary gamble, no matter how tempting it appeared.

Abruptly, a voice disrupted her thoughts.

"Oi, Gaara!"

It was her brother, a pleasant surprise since she'd expected he would be gone much longer. The mission she had sent him had been an A-rank mission. A complex assassination mission.

"Kankuro?"

She turned her head to look over at him, throat itching again.

He still wore the purple Kabuki paint on his face and a black puppeteer hat covered shaggy brown hair. He had four scrolls on his back, a marionette sealed into each one. He looked, really, the same as usual aside for a few bandages around the wrist of his right hand.

He gave her a smug smile. "The mission went really well! A _Genin_ could've taken 'im."

The corner of Gaara's lip turned upwards into the semblance of a tiny smile. Some things never changed Despite the bandage on his hand, Kankuro was one to brag. In that way, he kinda reminded her of Naruto. Like her, Kankuro had grown and matured, too, going from stupid coward to someone she considered to be one of her most precious people.

Gaara noticed the bandaged hand was due to someone who had tried to (sloppily) distract the puppeteer with pain. The fact he'd been "bodyguard" to the person he'd had to assassinate meant the said person had had very quick reflexes. After all, he'd been caught by surprise when finding out that Kankuro had been sent to kill him. Anyone else would've been in a glued state of shock.

Such a person wasn't something a _normal _Genin could take out.

Kankuro reached up to scratch the back of his neck with his good hand, managing to look casual and awkward at the same time.

Gaara averted what must've been an intense stare, settling it back on the dusty brown, tan, and orange cityscape. A pleasantly cool breeze ruffled her fluffy maroon hair, her Kazekage robes fluttering loosely. The temperature was still cool because it was still early morning. In another hour the desert heat would beat down with ferocity. At the moment the temperature was perfect.

"Hey, what's wrong?" her brother asked. He had sharp eyes and a quick brain; she was good at masking emotions. He always knew when something was troubling her.

She gave him a sideways glance. "An idiot. I came here to think."

There. Let him puzzle over that for awhile. She didn't want to worry him or Temari. It was inevitable that someone would want the Shukaku (though outright asking her for it to her face was beyond normal levels of stupidity). She'd known before having it sealed back in its kettle that people would seek the Ichibi.

Kankuro frowned. "Y'know, I think mud's clearer than that."

"I'm fine." Gaara went into a sudden, violent coughing fit. So much for holding back. "Tell me about your mission."


	3. Day 1 Part 3

Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto._

Edit: The gynecologist is known as _Gaara's private medic_ and is in no way referred to as "Gaara's gynecologist" by those who don't know anything about Gaara's secret. If I referred to Gaara's doctor as "gynecologist" in someone else's POV other than Gaara it was a mistake. Just to make that clear to the readers. :)

I also made the notes at the bottom of the page separate from the story.

**Day 1: Part 3**

_**The Ambassador's POV:**_

Okimoto Daichi sat on the burgundy sofa.

The ambassador wished that he was understood. Temari-dono had seemed nice until she'd gotten all high and mighty over him. All he'd wanted to do was tell her the Land of Cliffs needed the Shukaku. What was so wrong about wanting something that could help his land? The Sand was made up of selfish ingrates. The Shukaku was the thing that had given the Kazekage strength to protect his village, for cryin' out loud!

So why - !

He raked a hand through his shaggy brown hair, noting he needed it cut _soon_. Any fuller and it'd be considered an _urufu hea_. He should've tried to have it fixed before coming to Suna. He'd been too busy taking photographs before—

His eyes popped wide open and he leapt to his feet. Ah-ha! Buying a camera, setting it up, and then taking shots of this stuffy city sounded like a _very _good idea. He enjoyed the art of photography, having been introduced to it by his grandfather at the age of nine. He may not be a professional (there was that mishap where he mixed up frames by accident and ended up giving a friend the wrong picture), but still found pleasure in it.

That was another question. Where the blazes did they sell cameras here?

He raked his fingers through his hair again. Then again, his hair _did _need fixing. He released a big sigh. Where was a good barber when they were wanted?

"Argh! Who _cares_ about my hair? I _must _buy a camera!"

Hair could wait. Though, he was a little apprehensive buying a camera. While the daimyo was richer than most people from the Land of Cliffs, he wasn't swimming in money. He'd given Daichi just enough to live on for four days. But everything in Suna was over-the-top pricey! Soon he'd be borrowing money from the Kazekage himself, or something insane like that!

Daichi could just imagine that frigid glare from Gaara's aquamarine eyes if he told him that he wanted to borrow money off of him. That piercing, piercing stare...

He shivered. No. He'd rather be a pauper than ask the young man for money. So scary! Mooching off of the Kazekage wasn't good diplomacy, anyway.

_I'm _way_ smarter than that._

He tried to collect his thoughts together. Future what-if situations concerning money wasn't the issue. Getting a camera _was_, though.

"I need to get it before it's too hot outside."

Daichi pulled on a desert shawl that he'd found neatly folded on his bed. The wind and sand had been a nuisance coming to Suna. Too bad he hadn't thought to bring something like it with him on the journey. He hadn't thought to bring anyone else with him, either. He'd remember next time.

He walked down the corridors of the Kazekage's mansion, passing shinobi here and there. Most looked at him with respect while some others glared at him. Whoa. What was up with them? One moment they all had been showing respect for his title, the next treating him like a bug that needed squashing. What had he done wrong?

He jutted out his chin, puffed out his chest, and marched proudly out the door. Let them look! See how he cared! He would be sure to tell Makoto Hikaru-sama about their inhospitality and bizarre mood changes once he returned home with Shukaku.

Daichi passed by a cafe, a bakery, vegetable venders, and a clothing store. Where on earth did they keep photography shops? Hopefully not in the Kazekage's mansion. That would be—

He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Why hadn't he thought to check?

Civilians who had been minding their own business now stopped to stare at him.

"Do you need help, young man?" one elderly woman asked.

Relieved that he was making progress, Daichi nodded. "Yes. I am the ambassador of the Land of Cliffs and I need to buy a camera. Do you know where they're sold?"

The woman gave him a toothy grin. "Mm-hm. Follow me."

_Phew! Something _good _finally happened! Can't wait to get out of this place. _

The photography shop was a squatty, dingy colored building. Why no one had thought to make it stand out a little was beyond him. It seriously lacked defining features.

Across from it was a produce store, which, as Daichi entered the photography shop, he thought he saw Temari-dono buying something inside. He couldn't see what the kunoichi was doing. Not that it really mattered.

"Here we are. My grandson owns the place," the woman commented once they were inside. She introduced herself. "I'm Akiko. I should've told you my name earlier, but oh well."

Daichi barely heard or noticed her. The store interior had shelves filled with dry plates, rolls of celluloid film, studio cameras, box cameras, and cameras he'd never heard about or seen before. They were smaller than the others, shaped almost like a box camera except more rectangular, brown, and with the lens in the center.

He picked one up off the shelf.

"What are these?" he asked. It was much smaller than the bulky studio cameras he'd carried around with him, and it had a leather handle to hold it with.

The woman – Akiko – stepped beside him.

"Oh, that's one of the newest models. It takes, I think, two and a quarter inch images on roll film."

She picked up one, pointing some of its attributes. She sounded almost loving when she spoke. Like she was talking about her child whom she was proud of. "This is meant for taking quick pictures. I like it because it's easier to use than those," she jerked her head in the direction of the bulky studio cameras, "and I really think it'll revolutionize the history of photography. It's made to take quick photographs. I think they're called 'snapshots', or something."

Her face took on an unfocused look, gray, squinty eyes staring ahead in thought.

Daichi felt as though things were _really _starting to look up. He'd come to Suna, expected the Kazekage to have compassion, had got lost – but now his luck had come back. A camera that could be carried and used with ease sounded almost too good to be true.

He reached into his wallet. "How much?"

Akiko gave the price.

Daichi whistled between his teeth. It was enough to pay for a new change of clothes. An _expensive_ change of clothes. He could just buy another one. But the brown rectangular object looked so tempting. It'd distract him from the Godaime Kazekage's stubborn attitude and the fact his country was suffering. And maybe he'd put it in good use.

He handed her the money. "So how do I work it?"

Akiko's wrinkled face stretched into a large grin. "Here, lemme show you."

_**Temari's POV:**_

Temari walked out of the meat shop, grocery bags in her arms. Even if Gaara seemed to be taking the situation well, she wanted to ask Kankuro to make chopped liver for him. She also bought beef tongue and the ingredients to make salted tongue, but that would take four days to prepare and cook.

"Shopping?" a polite, all too familiar voice queried from beside her.

She hid the urge to groan. _Him_ of all people! Should she pretend she didn't hear him? Maybe whip out her fan and knock him off his feet by a powerful gust? But, much as she'd like to do both of those, this was _still_ the ambassador.

She turned her head to look at him. "Yes. I just finished. Why are you here?"

The ambassador gave her a friendly smile. "I bought a camera. Wanna see it?"

He was perky, upbeat – as though it really hadn't occurred to him that he'd been cold to her and Gaara earlier that day. Now he was treating her as though she was a friend.

Temari looked at the boxy object in his hands. That was a new kind? She really didn't know much about them. The only ones she'd seen had been on stilts and were made out of wood. This one did look a little unusual.

"An old woman at that store," the ambassador jerked his thumb to a squatty brown building, "says it'll revolutionize the history of photography! Isn't that great? It makes... snapshots."

The way he hesitated on the last word Temari could tell it was a new term. Then again, she hadn't heard of it either. Not like she really cared. Really she just wanted to –

_Snap!_

There was an abrupt flash of light and Temari found herself instinctively dropping the bags, whipping out her fan and preparing for battle. Her heart slammed into her throat. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with her eyes. The ambassador had, without any warning, taken her picture.

She folded her fan and strapped it back on, glaring at the man while she picked up her bags. The ambassador was displaying more and more a lack of any common sense. Now she _really_ wanted to go back to her house, have Kankuro prepare chopped liver, and then see Gaara again. This man was infuriating!

"Don't do that again!"

"Uh, s-sorry," Daichi stammered, lowering the camera from his face, revealing a sheepish, stunned expression. "I didn't realize" – He stopped, swallowed convulsively, and backed slowly to the side before throwing himself on the cream-colored sandy ground, face bowed to the ground in an expression of humility. "I'm so sorry! I'll warn you next time!"

"There won't be a 'next time'!" Temari returned in a steely voice, eliciting a muffled squeak from the man. "Get up!"

Okimoto Daichi rose up on shaky legs.

"You can't just push your way in here and assume that you can do just anything because you're the ambassador. Know what? I could really care less at the moment! Ever since this morning you've only shown yourself to be a useless, mindless person who can't think for himself!"

Her voice, though she hadn't raised it, shook with intense anger, fists tightly curled to her sides as she had to stifle the urge to knock him senseless. Even though she badly wanted to, she knew it wouldn't strengthen relations between Land of Cliffs and Sunagakure.

Temari walked as fast as she could away from Daichi. Any more time spent around him and she might just lose it. She'd dealt with people like him before. She could still deal with it. Even though she knew that her youngest sibling was made out of strong stuff, she also knew that he wasn't invincible to cruel callousness.

She wished the ambassador had never stepped foot into Suna, had just got lost in a sandstorm, or that he'd at least listened to Gaara's first proposal.

When she came home, she was still stewing a little over the situation.

"Hey Te– What happened?"

Kankuro, she was glad to see, was already home. She'd seen him return from his mission as she had left to pick up ingredients for one of Gaara's favorite meals. He had been sitting on the couch, watching the tube with his arms spread out when she came in, but now he stood to his feet.

"An ambassador. He asked our younger brother for the Shukaku. Oh, and when Gaara tried to explain to him about his own rough past, guess what? The man decides to mention that the host would make a good tool for his own country!"

Kankuro narrowed his eyes.

"'Guess that was the 'idiot' Gaara mentioned."

Temari pursed her lips. Her youngest brother _had _been affected.

"Kankuro, I want you to make chopped liver. I know you've just come from a mission, but Gaara seriously needs some cheering up."

She started pulling out stuff from the grocery bags, setting them down on the table. "Even if he says he doesn't need it," she added.

"Sure, I'll do it," Kankuro said, taking the livers to drain and sauté them. Oddly enough, cooking came naturally to him. Temari lacked the skill; anything she made turned into black char or something barely resembling the intended dinner.

Whenever Kankuro was away on a mission Temari would order take-out. It was always a relief when he came back. Even though sometimes he argued about it, it was also something he grudgingly enjoyed.

"What's Gaara doing, now?" she asked.

"He's with his medic."

Temari frowned. Gaara's mood might be much lower when he returned. He had been having monthly check-ups and appointments since a young age. More so after Shukaku's extraction.

_**Gaara's Private Medical Ninja and Gynecologist Maiko's POV:**_

The medical team who had been assigned to take care of Gaara since birth worked in a small, round building with a few round windows. The building was set near the Kazekage mansion and looked, at first glance, like a normal house. It had been built to be inconspicuous, baby Gaara having been raised there until she had grown out of the diaper stage.

She had been watched very closely by the medics. It was considered bad luck for a girl to have the Shukaku sealed inside. The Shukaku was a male demonic entity and could cause a terrible chaotic imbalance if not sealed properly. It was too bad that Elder Chiyo had _loosely_ sealed the Shukaku inside, and the medics and few ninjas who knew the truth feared Gaara even more.

Afraid that news of Gaara's gender would cause mass hysteria the Yondaime had wisely chosen to keep it a complete secret and have her raised as a boy, despite his mistake of not keeping the Shukaku a secret.

The head medical ninja, Maiko, knew what the political implications would be and had become almost the Kazekage's advisor in keeping things in wraps. Though, sometimes, she wondered if Gaara was even _trying_ hard to be a male. The color schemes and the cuts of her clothing seemed a bit on the feminine side.

At least Gaara had underwent a hysteroscopic endometrial ablation (an operation to put a halt to her menstrual cycle). Finally, they were able to perform surgery on her, even though she'd refused at first to have it done.

Maiko didn't know why the girl had been so adamant against it at first. It wasn't like she'd ever live the life of a normal woman and give birth to children. She also didn't see why the Kazekage had underwent a depression after the operation. She'd even needed counseling to get out of it!

Before they had had to put her on hormonal pills and an assortment of other things to regulate her menses. But after that operation, so far she had been having no reports of bleeding. Then again, she needed to be followed up closely to make sure everything was all right. The operation used on her had been a new one and something could go horribly awry.

Maiko looked at the patient in question noting that Gaara had chosen to wear her maroon, periwinkle, and purple battle outfit, frowning when she noticed the chest protruded further out where her breasts would be. Thankfully they were barely noticeable, but to anyone observant there was obviously something underneath. Of course, it could also be contributed to muscles from the weight of the gourd.

Was it just her or did that outfit look tighter than normal? Not only that but Gaara also seemed slightly out of breath.

"Please, sit down, Kazekage-sama," Maiko said.

Wordlessly Gaara sat down on the examination table. She coughed into a pale white hand, aquamarine eyes staring impassively up at her private medic.

It seemed the child was always sniffling, coughing, wheezing, and otherwise getting sick nowadays. No matter the inconvenience to Gaara, it just meant more money to Maiko.

"I see you still wear that outfit. You know that we don't approve," she said, checking Gaara's blood pressure. 109/135. Lower than normal.

Gaara smirked. "I know. But it's the only one that hides me."

Maiko frowned. "I doubt that." She checked the Kazekage's temperature. No fever.

She sanitized the thermometer and put it away. She pursed her lips and stared at Gaara's chest. Those breasts were more trouble than what they were worth. She would have to bring up a proposition. She knew Gaara wouldn't take it well, but it was the only practical measure to assure her political success. Hopefully the girl would be reasonable.

First she'd measure them and decide afterwards to advise Gaara on what to do: "Take off your top. Your breasts still need to be examined."

She waited for Gaara to comply, unzip the thick harness and padded, heavy coat, and then unwrap her breasts to expose them. They weren't much to look at, having been pressed, flattened, and squashed most of her life.

But what was most troubling was the fact that, had Gaara been able to be a normal girl, she would have gone from a B cup to a C. It was no wonder that she had been having trouble breathing! The bindings would have to be very tight now to hide her assets, and the skin that was normally marble white had red imprints from the cloth strips. Both areolae and nipples were mildly cyanotic (1), the areola of the left breast having a somewhat bruised appearance.

Maiko knew some time had passed, but hadn't considered the possibility of Gaara developing even more.

Frowning, she used her chakra to probe the insides of the breasts for anomalies and carcinomas(2), her actions eliciting a wince of pain from the patient. Both areolae looked suspicious.

But, she was glad upon examination that there was nothing malignant, palpating the tender, sore breasts with her hands to search for anything her chakra may have missed. Clear. Maiko stopped probing and got herself ready to tell Gaara the good and bad news. Those breasts, while having no carcinomas, were a problem in themselves.

"Kazekage-sama, you don't have any sign of tumors or cysts. But I'm concerned about your health. As your private health advisor, I think the only option for you is to have a dual mastectomy."

Gaara glared up at her, wrapping an arm over her exposed breasts. Maiko couldn't help but remember the time when she'd had to tell Gaara about the operation to stop her monthly bleeding. Gaara had had that same defiant expression.

"And as the Kazekage, I don't need one."

Maiko clenched her teeth together; the child was foolish and unreasonable. Didn't Gaara realize it was for the better? It wasn't like she could afford to live life as a normal woman. She was a "man" and was required to have the flat chest of one. Also, without the mastectomies, her bindings made breathing more difficult. It would be dangerous for the Kazekage to go into battle and overexert herself.

"Think of how much easier it would be to move, breathe, and enjoy life without worrying about being found out," Maiko said slowly, feeling like she was talking to a six-year-old instead of a seventeen-year-old. "Think of how much _better_ it would be."

Gaara continued to glare up at the medic. She tilted her jaw in defiance. "If I didn't need one in the past, then one isn't needed now."

Maiko closed her eyes, already tired of arguing with this stubborn child. "Fine. Just think about it, all right?"

* * *

1. Cyanosis: A syndrom in which there is little oxygen in the blood flow, giving the skin a bluish tinge.

2. Carcinoma: Cancer: But cysts are the main concern here.


	4. Day 1 Part 4

Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto._

Note: **Ryth76 **wrote most of Kankuro's POV since I have trouble with him. Also, I forgot to mention before that I was thinking of manga version Gaara instead of the anime-Shippuuden version while making this.

Gaara may be somewhat OOC near the end, which I tried to fix up a little.

**Day 1: Part 4**

_**Gaara's POV:**_

Gaara stepped outside the building. It was a nice day, not too hot, she thought emptily, distracted by the medic's sentence. The truth was, she had known for a while that they would ask her to do that, to undergo a drastic dual mastectomy. The only thing that remained of her femininity was being slowly stripped away for the convenience of others.

There was no one around, and she risked a glance down at where her breasts curved and dipped against the thick fabric of her coat. They seemed even more noticeable, innocent but definitely a source of trouble. They were sore and tight, needing to be aired out and soaked in hot water.

She knew she should have no trouble reaching a decision. If she didn't have the operation she could be found out. The only thing going for her was that everyone expected her to be a "he" and had no reason to make assumptions. The reason she hadn't had a mastectomy after her capture was because she had pleaded with the medic not to remove them.

So much had been removed, changed, altered...

_Shukaku._

_  
_There was emptiness, a void where the monster tanuki had once taken up residence. Things had been too quiet, the voices stilled by the extraction technique. Even before she had grown used to the silence where Shukaku had once given malicious thoughts and murderous intent, she had been taken aside by the medics:

"_Kazekage-sama, there is something we need to discuss with you." Maiko stood with her hands clasped behind her back. Her male colleague, Hiro, stood beside her. His eyes, like the other, were filled with solemnity. He was the only other person besides Maiko who knew Gaara's secret._

"_What?" Gaara asked, feeling more than a little apprehensive. _

"_You have been on hormone supplements to decrease your monthly flow, but we worry about the risks involved with that. Before we wouldn't suggest this, because of your automatic defense, but you need surgery to stop your periods completely," Hiro stated._

"_What kind of surgery?" But Gaara had a sick feeling in her stomach. The new, empty Shukaku-less void inside didn't help the situation much, either. As the medics explained what the process would be, the name (hysteroscopic endometrial ablation), a cold chill trickled down her back._

"_It's the only option left, Kazekage-sama. Think of it this way; Sunagakure needs a strong leader. But some of the medications we had you take hadn't been tested on long term use."_

"_We want you to undergo this surgery. Trust us."_

They had had to talk to her thoroughly about it for several hours, discussing it until she finally gave in. Then, afterwards, her mental world had fallen apart. No one had noticed it; she kept it well hidden from everyone. The only one who did notice were the medics, and they had only made things worse.

Even though it was foolish, even though it was something that could never happen anyway, Gaara had found that she had _wanted_ to be a mother. She had wanted, yearned for a family. She hadn't completely realized it until it was too late.

Now they wanted her to undergo a mastectomy. Remove the last traces of womanhood.

_Why?_

Her eyes took in the sight of a couple walking down the street across from her. They were a young couple, the woman showing signs of pregnancy, her arm curving against the somewhat protruding belly, her husband bending down to whisper something in her ear.

_Why me?_

The woman smiled. She looked happy, like nothing could bring down her elation. Together the couple walked hand-in-hand, so caught up in themselves that they barely noticed the Kazekage staring after them.

_Only me!!_

Loose grains of sand swirled around Gaara. That woman didn't have to live life pretending to be something she wasn't, she didn't have to worry about being found out. That woman, and other women of the village, could go through life naturally. They were born to be as they were.

But...

Gaara took a deep breath. The bitterness and resentment toward the villagers when she was six had returned for a brief moment. At that time it had been because she had been ostracized and rejected for being possessed with the Shukaku before birth. This time...

The sand that had loosely circled her body drifted to the desert ground.

Gaara wasted no time in staring after the couple. There were things that needed to be done, think over – not to mention deal with a stubborn ambassador from the Land of Cliffs.

Something about the situation gave her a very bad feeling. In her heart she felt it. An intangible foreboding. The same – very same..._ feeling_... right before Deidara of the Akatsuki had attacked her village.

Still troubled by things, she made it to her office, and spent a small measure of time sending missions out to the ninjas of the village and then paperwork. She stopped writing when she felt the presence of two people standing outside through the sand she had placed to act as sensors.

The information gathered from her chakra embedded sand could find out a person's weight, height, build – useful for differentiating between her siblings or the Land of Cliffs' tall, rakishly thin ambassador.

Thank the gods it wasn't the latter.

"Come in," she said before they could knock.

Kankuro entered first with Temari behind him, a small platter of something in his hands. The delicious aroma of chopped liver filled Gaara's nostrils. She noticed that Temari also held something in her hands. They – !

Gaara widened her eyes in surprise. "You guys –!"

Kankuro grinned, placing the platter on her desk. "Just forget about that idiot and let's eat!"

Temari rolled her eyes from behind him, shaking her head, and then looking over at the Kazekage. "Gaara, you mind if we eat here?"

At a loss for words, Gaara could only shake her head. Through the years, the times when she couldn't speak from being touched had become more frequent. Her siblings had always been there for her when she was down, lifting her back on her feet. She didn't know what she would've done had it not been for their support (especially Kankuro's). Temari had grown closer when Gaara had been brought back from the dead by the love of one and sacrifice of another.

The bonds with her siblings, the fact they were trying to cheer her up and wanted to eat with her was something precious and she would savor it. Even though it meant eating in her office.

"Thank you, Temari, Kankuro."

Perhaps the day, though it had started off bad, wasn't as bad as she had thought. She gave a warm, small smile, at her siblings.

Kankuro scratched the back of his head. "Heh, heh – you're welcome, little brother."

The door flung abruptly open. "Oi, Gaara, what's my next mission?"

_**Kankuro's POV**_

Kankuro groaned inwardly. That guy, Suromaru, had bad timing. The mood of the room was cut in half by the Chuunin who stepped inside the room. Kankuro remembered the times the man had worked under him; Suromaru wasn't known for his social etiquette.

He was the least person Gaara needed to see.

Kankuro looked over at Gaara. His younger brother's eyes widened in startled surprise and brief irritation before he quickly reverted to a blank, slowly closing dark-ringed eyes. After a moment, Gaara opened them."You should knock next time."

He sounded normal, but his eyes were trained on the chopped liver. Something was bothering him. His older brother could always tell.

Suromaru shifted awkwardly and gave the Kazekage an apologetic lopsided grin. "Yeah! I'll remember that. Uh, guess I'll leave you alone, Gaara. Seems you've got company." He walked out.

Gaara watched his retreating figure, eyes moving over the brown vest, the masculine back. His cheeks had a hint of color, and he was still staring off even when the man had left. A constricting silence hung over the office. Kankuro's stomach clenched. He managed to tear his eyes away to look at Temari. She was frozen, poised with chopsticks loaded with food. Her wary eyes were fixed on their little brother. They held the same question Kankuro wished he had the courage to voice. _Gaara, are you..._

Kankuro licked dry lips When he spoke, it was as though someone else was speaking. The person speaking sounded calm, casual, and relaxed. Kankuro felt like none of these things. "So, Gaara, wanna tell us what that was all about?"

Gaara gave a slight start, reentering the here and now. He turned slowly to Kankuro, seemed to consider what to say. He answered, slowly and carefully as though weighing each word, "It's okay. He's a little over enthusiastic, but he just returned from a mission."

Was it Kankuro's imagination, or did Gaara sound tense? As if he'd been caught in an awkward moment. The clench in Kankuro's stomach tightened. "I meant _you_."

Gaara examined his chopsticks as though fixated. "I was only a little irritated, but I'm okay..." His voice trailed off.

Kankuro crinkled his brow, concerned. It was clear from Gaara's uncharacteristic behavior that there _was_ something between him and Suromaru. _My little brother? Gay?_ Kankuro wondered what he would say to Gaara if that was the case. How he would treat him. How the village would treat him. But, no, perhaps their suspicions had no basis in reality. Taking heart in this idea, Kankuro braced himself to face his fear of Gaara being offended if they were wrong.

But Temari made the first move. She lowered her chopsticks slowly and reached out a hand, almost touching Gaara's shoulder. He met her eyes. "Gaara," his sister began, her voice hesitant. She paused a moment, trying to figure out how to say it. "Are you – uh, do you like... men?"

Color flared in Gaara's pale face, black framed eyes wide, aquamarine irises small in comparison to the new width. He looked away, his focus once more on the food set in front of him. He clutched his chopsticks tightly. Kankuro had a sudden urge to apologize for Temari's rudeness. For _their_ rudeness, he corrected himself.

Gaara looked up at them, hesitating. There was a heart pounding silence. Kankuro and Temari held their breath, transfixed in suspense. Finally, Gaara said, warily, "Yes."

The words hadn't yet sunk in, but Kankuro felt a sudden urge to reassure Gaara. "Oi, Gaara, if you don't want anybody else to know you're gay, we won't breathe a word about this."

Gaara's eyes suddenly flashed indignantly. He lifted his chin up. "I am _not_ gay!"

Kankuro stared at him. What had been that yes then? Hadn't Gaara just admitted he liked men? Gaara's eyes widened in disbelief. His face turned an even deeper shade of red. He said sharply, stumbling over his words, uncharacteristically, "Uh... I mean, I like men, but I'm gay. Ah! That is... I'm _not_ gay; I prefer men."

Kankuro fumed. Even the best little brothers just _had_ to be frustrating and confusing. "That... doesn't make any sense at all!"

Temari leaned back, sighed, and rubbed her temples with a hand as though struck by a violent headache. "Gaara..." She lifted her eyes from her lap, and said slowly, "If you prefer other men you're gay. Right?"

Gaara answered, recovering as best he could from his falter, "Uh, yes, that's right... I'm gay-- and I also like men--I like _men_!"

They stared at him with raised eyebrows, startled by his bizarre reaction. Gaara's eyes flicked from Temari to Kankuro. He stared down at his plate for a moment before taking another bite. He commented, casually, "This is tasty..." And thoughtfully began to chew.

**_The Daimyo of the Land of Cliffs' POV_**

The Land of Cliffs' daimyo, Makoto Hikaru, glanced out the windows of his inner patio. His mansion, due to lack of funds, was in need of repair. The paint was chipping, there were several niches outside the palace walls where a battle had taken place a few months ago. It was a miracle that the damage had been thus far minimal, and the notorious Midori shinobi clan had been keeping to the shadows.

Footsteps behind his back alerted him to the presence of a messenger.

"Your Excellency," the man said from behind the daimyo's back, "the ambassador has made it safely to Sunagakure."

Makoto sighed with relief, clasping his hands together. "That's good. Soon we'll have the great Shukaku in our grasp. It'll be an end to starvation, war, and economical collapse. You are dismissed."

Okimoto Daichi was a useful asset to his plans. The daimyo already knew that the man couldn't possibly convince Suna's shinobi leader to lend the Land of Cliffs' the Shukaku. What the Kazekage needed was more _persuasion_.

He smiled tautly, raising a hand to signal the guest who had been hanging upside down on the ceiling. The shinobi dropped almost soundlessly. A black mask covered half his face, a set of sharp, intelligent green eyes stared with respect at the daimyo.

He bowed. "What are your orders, Captain?"

"Take six of the strongest of your clan and make an assault on Sunagakure."

The Shinobi started. "B-but, _sir_—that's _suicide! _The village is full of Jounin and Chuunin level ninjas. We'd be outnumbered – not to mention..._Gaara!"_

Makoto sighed, rubbing his temples. "You will do as I say. Daichi will fall into the plan, the Kazekage will see how desperate this land is, then hand the Shukaku to us."

The Shinobi pursed his lips and tilted his jaw defiantly for a moment. He dropped his stare to the ground and bowed curtly. "Yes, sir."

"Makoto" smirked. Everything was going as planned. People were stupid and all too trusting nowadays.

Things were going to get pretty interesting.

**End of Day 1**

Note: It may take a few weeks before I post another chapter since I would like to finish Day 2 before posting it on this site.


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